


Book Keepers

by LIGHTSJOON



Category: SEVENTEEN (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Bookstore, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternative Lifestyles, Crushes, Developing Friendships, Developing Relationship, Falling In Love, First Love, Fluff, Love at First Sight, M/M, Strangers to Lovers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-16
Updated: 2020-01-16
Packaged: 2021-02-27 10:20:53
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,065
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22275508
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LIGHTSJOON/pseuds/LIGHTSJOON
Summary: Joshua didn't realize it was love at first sight, cliches and all.
Relationships: Hong Jisoo | Joshua & Yoon Jeonghan, Hong Jisoo | Joshua/Yoon Jeonghan
Comments: 1
Kudos: 74





	Book Keepers

It was hot as hell.

The air conditioner was broken, and Joshua had just clocked in for his agonizingly long eight hour shift at the bookstore, which was conveniently just down the street from his apartment. 

It was a little past one thirty and he had been utterly grateful he didn’t have to work the morning shift; no one ever came into the shop between the hours of seven and eleven thirty. Especially on a Monday of all days. It was the start of a new week: students attended classes, while their parents prepared for another long work week. 

The occasional unique person would trickle in any time between noon and two. Merely because it was the height of lunch hour and they were giving themselves every excuse to avoid their workplace for an extra couple of minutes. 

It wouldn’t be until about five o’clock that the regulars would start flooding through the doors. Mostly college students, much like himself, who had finished up their classes for the day, looking for a quiet,  _ aesthetic _ , place to take pictures of what makes it  _ look _ like they are studying. When the harsh reality was they would spend about thirty seconds pulling up the content they had been hell bent on studying, only to spend the remainder of their time scrolling through social media until they were satisfied that they spent enough time being inspired by the thousands of aging pages that surrounded them at all angles. 

But he knew it would be several more hours until those special specimen would grace him with their presence.

Until then, he gazed around at the overly familiar titles and spines, another mindless task that preoccupied approximately two hours of his eight hour work day. That was ten hours a week. Since he studied the arts, he decided to skip the pointless math that would reveal the ungodly number of hours he could waste in a whole year just by staring into space. Needless to say, he had scanned the never ending sea of titles enough times that he became familiar with what genres intrigued him and what genres would forever collect dust on his mental bookshelf. Genres such as westerns and mystery would be buried in his graveyard of intentionally forgotten books. 

He was drawn to magic. Worlds that would transport him far from the cushioned arm chair that he spent most of his shift lounging in; characters that felt much more alive than the tangible individuals who’d pop in here and there; love—while sometimes cheesy, and mostly unrealistic—that was so thoroughly admirable, he’d be convinced for  _ days  _ that the love of his life would walk through those wood framed doors and show him that love was much more than an author’s carefully crafted sweet nothings. 

It was usually at this point towards the beginning of his shift that he wondered how many books he could read before it was time for his replacement to show up. Three is his record to date. 

Because it’s summer, he’d been steering off of his usual fantastical path and began venturing into the realm of adult contemporary novels; sometimes when he  _ really _ needed something easy to read, he would tread in the waters of young adult novels. While the content was much more relatable than that of adult genres, he found that young adult novels lacked any and all sense of challenge. He was nothing short of grateful that each genre (save for westerns and mystery, perhaps he’d even add horror to the list as well) had something to fuel his curiosity. 

He stood from the lightly dusted arm chair, a groan tickling his throat as he exhaled, and slowly made his way for the adult fiction section of the store. The sunlight that trickled in through the shutters warmed his back as he stretched the stiff muscles. A mixture of conflicting subtle scents bombarded him. The bitterness of coffee beans from the coffee house across the alley clashing with the sweet, gentle aroma of freshly baked pastries at the bakery only two doors down, not only made him hungry, but made him feel like he was just another character passing through an overused cliche. 

As he rounded the edge to one of the science fiction shelves, which were adjacent to the start of adult literature, he had to do a double take when he realized the store wasn’t as empty as he had initially assumed. At the furthest end of the row sat a quiet, concentrated young man, who couldn’t have been much older than he, flying through the pages of some average sized looking novel. Joshua could see that the book cover was a mixture of light sky blues and summery turquoise. 

_ Another fan of summer contemporaries _ , he thought, forcing his feet to continue onto the opposite side of the self. 

He browsed the spines, and the occasional book jacket synopsis, rather quickly. After a short five minutes, he settled on three novels that he, coincidentally, ended up choosing because he thought the covers were well done. Although, he couldn’t say he was all that surprised. He was drawn to beautiful things. 

The store didn’t seem as quiet as it had been prior to the discovery of another fellow reader. Joshua’s senses appeared to kick into overdrive whenever he heard the consistent flip from one page to another; or the occasional sniffle, which was most likely a result of his lack of motivation to ever dust, despite his overwhelming desire to keep every inch of any room clean. 

He forced himself to turn to the first of three books, all of which he knew he wasn’t going to finish, and made his best attempt at blocking out his hyper-awareness. 

He must have read the first paragraph of said novel at least a dozen times, unable to pay attention, before the blonde stranger emerged from his spot. 

Joshua was almost sure the young man was going to leave without purchasing anything, since he knew better than anyone that avid readers merely read their books inside the bookshop, thus enjoying a good book without having to break the bank. Yet, it was the newly familiar figure, outlined in his peripheral vision, that drew his eyes away from the words he hadn’t been digesting in the first place. 

Setting his book down on the counter, he pulled his thinly framed, round reading glasses from his face, and turned to face the customer. Whoever he was, he was probably more beautiful than even the most alluring fictional belles put together. 

He’d been working here for a little over two years, and this was the first time he’d seen this man come into the store. Whether he was new to the city, or it was his first time coming into the store, Joshua couldn’t tell. He merely paid him a smile and softly cleared his throat, “How can I help you today?” 

The bright blonde offered a closed-lip smile in return before placing several novels on the counter, “Would it be possible for you to put these on hold for me? I completely intend on buying them, but my paycheck doesn’t process for a couple of days, so I wanted to make sure that no one bought them in the meantime.”

Joshua could have laughed at the mere idea that this young man thought  _ that  _ many people came into this store. Instead, he bit the inside of his cheek to keep his teeth from peeking through. He looked down at the colorful pile that had been arranged in an almost ROYGBIV-like fashion. There were four books neatly organized from thinnest to thickest, all from an assortment of various genres. The young man was a rather diverse reader, something he had always admired in people who could easily branch out into any genre they could get their hands on. 

With another smile, he asked, reaching for a quarter-sheet sized slip of paper, “Just these four for you?” 

A single, tentative nod was the only response he received. 

“Can I get your name to put on the tag?” 

The man's eyes turned bright at the prospect of his books being put aside, “Jeonghan! Yoon Jeonghan.” 

Joshua took his time to write the name, in addition to the titles and authors of the works Jeonghan had picked. When he finished, he placed the slip of paper inside the cover of the topmost book, and drew them closer to him. 

“I’ll make sure these stay behind the counter for you until you decide to come and pick them up,” Joshua ensured. 

“Wow, thank you very much…?” Jeonghan’s eyes scanned his clothes and the counter for any sign of a name tag.

He chuckled softly, “Joshua.” 

“Joshua,” he repeated back, a quizzical look filling his features, “It’s unique. Very Western.” 

He could only shrug before Jeonghan moved to make his way towards the door. 

“Thank you, again, Joshua,” accompanied by a toothy smile. 

Once Jeonghan was out of view, Joshua finally let himself breathe. If he’d known any better, he would have assumed that Jeonghan was some sort of celebrity. It hardly made any sense in his mind that a normal human being could instill as much internal panic as that man had. 

He let out a long sigh before returning his attention to the books he had logged to put on hold. He flipped through the pages of the first book, curious to see what the writing style was like, which he was half impressed by. It was the second book that caught his attention. Not because the cover was innately stunning, or because the synopsis was so beautiful it was damn near poetry, but because of a single note that had been folded and placed a third of the ways into the hardback. 

Joshua plucked the note from its place, bookmarking the page number in his brain, as he unfolded the square. What was written there, in half-elegant, half-rushed handwriting was vaguely ambiguous. 

_ Some waves never make it to the shore, but I’ll hold out hope that one day, even if it’s far from now, that this will reach you.  _

~

Three tantalizingly slow days passed before Jeonghan returned to the store. 

It was a Thursday morning, which was not Joshua’s usual shift, but he had agreed to switch with another co-worker, so here he was. 

The store opened at eight, which meant he was supposed to arrive at least an hour prior to make sure that everything was clean and in order. So here he was, at seven in the morning, making his one block trip from his apartment to the store. The air was crisp, which was nothing short of a heart wrenching promise that the latter half of the day would be another hot one. 

As he rounded the corner that peered into the colorful alleyway, where the store was located, he noticed a shadow of a person leaning up against the front door. It had been a long time since he worked the morning shift; have people always shown up this early? He spotted the nearly white-blonde hair before anything else, causing his heart to squeeze in his chest. 

Once he was much closer, with a timid glance, he leaned forward to get a better look, “Jeonghan?”

He pulled the store keys from his pocket as the latter pushed himself from the door. To the best of his ability, he tried to sound like he hadn’t been studying the mesmerizing consonants and vowels of the young man's name. Even if they would never meet again after today, he knew deep down, as long as he was alive and breathing, he’d never forget that name and face. 

“Joshua, right?” Jeonghan replied, “I didn’t realize you worked here in the mornings.” 

“I usually don’t,” he agreed, “The older woman who is typically here in the mornings had to take time off to take care of her son. So, I am here to be her knight in shining armor.” 

Jeonghan nodded in understanding, a playful smirk on his face, pushing his fingertips into this jean pockets.

“It sounds like you come here often?” He was fishing was information, anything he could get really. Something that would tell him just how long both of them have been connected to the same place. 

Joshua held the door open for Jeonghan to walk in, who made a noise of consideration, “I think I’ve been coming here for about a year and a half now?” 

A regular. One that he’d glanced over for nearly more than half of his time working here. Jeonghan must have seen the dumbfounded look on his face, for there was a brief sound of laughter as he rounded the counter to unlock the register. 

“I usually come in the morning,” he clarified with a smile, “since I go to work in the evening.”

Joshua hummed a noise of understanding as he pulled the books he’d been asked to hold. 

“If you don’t mind, I’m going to look around the store again before purchasing those.” 

It sounded like a question, perhaps a favor, but he obliged him with a shallow nod as Jeonghan flashed a grateful smile. Not too much longer after that, he disappeared behind the face of the young adult contemporary fiction shelf. 

Joshua glanced down at the held books he’d been indulging himself in for the last several days and couldn’t help but bite his tongue to keep from smiling. 

“I have to say,” he called out, “you have an impeccable taste in books.” 

Without any trace of hesitation, Jeonghan poked his head from around the corner of the stack, “You do as well, but I’m sure you already know that.” 

Joshua felt like his face was boiling with the heat of a dozen suns and couldn’t have been more grateful that they were separated by a solid wall of bookshelves.

“I mean, you work in a bookstore,” the blonde further clarified, “I’m sure you have at least some taste in good books.” 

“I’d like to hope so,” Joshua called back as he connected his phone to the mini, yet powerful, Bluetooth speaker that sat on the back edge of the counter. He picked some random playlist that was queued with an arsenal of lo-fi music and let the soft notes float between the shelves around them. 

An hour passed in silence, drowned out by the music that filled the open space. They sat in their respective corners of the store—this time, Jeonghan sitting on one of the various cream colored couches in the lounging area—with their individual stacks of books, content with the wordless conversation driven by the flipping and turning of pages. 

It wasn’t too long after that a handful of irregulars stopped in to browse, an uncommon occurrence in general, but it  _ was _ a Thursday and the general work week was beginning to wind down. The end of the week, and the weekends, were always much busier, and he said a little prayer of thanks that he only had to work during the weekdays. 

Ever so often, Joshua would glance to his newfound reading partner, who would also occasionally gaze in his general direction, but now that there were anomalies present in the store, they were both keen on quietly observing the pattern of genres said strangers would venture into. 

After another twenty minutes of walking up and down the same aisle a number of times, the customers settled on one book, paid the cost, and left. 

“Who knew that making a choice over historical fiction could be so difficult,” Jeonghan jokes.

Joshua shrugged, organizing the remainder of the cash in the cash drawer. 

Suddenly a pair of arms was crossed along the counter, with a title he’d briefly seen before nestled in the crook of his elbow. After a moment, Jeonghan placed the work flat on the counter and gazed at him with a beaming curiosity. 

“A recommendation,” he offered, “for you. I noticed you don’t read many classics.” 

_ Endymion  _ by John Keats.

Joshua was puzzled by this outside observation. He’d only read a single book (and that attempted paragraph) between the two times he’d noticed Jeonghan in the store. 

“You’re an avid reader,” Jeonghan continued, “but not as observant as I once presumed.” 

He pushed the book closer to him before taking out his wallet, eyeing the books that he’d placed on hold. Joshua grabbed the stack and placed it in front of the register. He gave him the total and was handed, not only a credit card, but a business card as well. 

Joshua timidly eyed the man across the counter and gazed at him with a question in his eye. 

“I want to hear your thoughts about this book once you’ve finished,” he answered, lightly tapping the soft cover for emphasis. 

Joshua processed the payment for the books and returned the credit card. He was sure his cheeks were pink, and he could only hope that the low lighting of the early morning was doing whatever it could to hide the coloring. If Jeonghan came into the store as often as he claimed he did, the phone number on the business card would have proven useless, considering that he knew exactly where he would be Monday through Friday. 

Jeonghan thanked him for the books, and for his kindness for holding them as long as he did, and offered a quick wave of the hand by means of farewell. Joshua smiled in return until the blonde was well out the door. He turned to study the business card that was left for him. 

_ Yoon Jeonghan _ . Senior Vocal Advisor at Pledis Entertainment. 

He blinked once, and then twice, and then it felt like his brain couldn’t process words whatsoever. 

Yoon Jeonghan was a vocal coach. What kind of vocal coach had enough spare time to spend his entire morning sitting in the middle of a small local bookstore? 

Joshua was both equally impressed and stunned all at once. He looked over the card again, running his slim fingers across the grooves of the type. He was half-surprised when he flipped it over to find another note written there.

And for all he knew his heart swelled with the magic he’d been reading about for so long, or the excitement of knowing that they would see each other again. 

_ A wind was calling me, perhaps it was you.  _


End file.
